


Killing Me Softly With Your Touch

by lola (chaeyoongs)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark Past, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Domestic Violence, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25447456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaeyoongs/pseuds/lola
Summary: AU: Each time someone's touch stirs emotion inside of you, it leaves a spot on your skin in the colour of the emotion you've felt.A series of short stories surrounding the lives of those who have been painted by life.Part I: Aphelios x Sett
Relationships: Aphelios/Sett (League of Legends)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 23





	Killing Me Softly With Your Touch

**Author's Note:**

> This AU has been sitting in my drafts for a while now and I finally decided to write it!
> 
> The first part here is about Settphel and their colours whereas other ships will follow as I add more short stories. This isn't supposed to be a cohesive fanfiction with actual chapters (look at how short this is lmao) but more snippets out of a world where what you're feeling at someone's touch is apparent and bare.
> 
> Have fun!
> 
> PS: I have a twitter (@chaeyoongsao3)

Settrigh's lips were pink when Aphelios brushed them with his thumb. He hardly recognized the colour in the dim light of the night fallen city but it was so different from the angry red across his cheek and the soothing green underneath his long lashes. He didn't dare to touch them, only the red stains that he covered in kisses and gentle strokes. It wasn't his place to cover something that meant so much to the man. Settrigh was purring at his caress and whispered when he spoke.

"Momma used to wipe my tears when pa beat us."

Aphelios smiled softly and cupped his jaw to press a kiss onto his shimmering pink lips. Then Settrigh opened his eyes and looked him in the eyes. He saw his colourful features, blurry and close and dim and oh so faint and yet he had never stared at a face with more clarity. It was Settrigh's turn to hold Aphelios' face in his clasp, eyes wandering over purple and blue and sprinkles of red.

Sometimes Aphelios was ashamed of the coloured stains gracing his face, was ashamed of how obvious it had to be to others, his grief and loathing, covering his wrists and chest and bum, his face that had been gripped so harshly, so different from how Settrigh was embracing it. He saw himself in Settrigh's dark eyes and the blossoming pink underneath his fingertips and he heaved out a breath. When his parents had held his hands and jaw in shock at the pungent stains, he had yelled at them, torn himself away, said that they shouldn't dare to touch him or the colours, didn't want their shame imprinted on him. He deserved it, the loathe, he had said. His mother had cried and he had let her cry while he had been covering his wrists in purple.

In front of Settrigh, Aphelios had never been ashamed. Even when he had first let down his robes and Settrigh had taken in the sight of his painted body, it had felt right, had felt okay to be exposed. Settrigh had only touched him where he had had to and Aphelios had done the same. It wasn't customary to paint over someone's colours, especially stranger's that one didn't intend to stay with. It was selfish and neither Settrigh nor Aphelios were selfish people. They had merely wanted to indulge in each other's warmth and comfort for as long as it would stay with them. They had merely wanted to welcome and guide them to the door when it was time to leave, wave them goodbye without any pain of real attachment because warmth and comfort had never been known to be around for long.

What they had found within one another had refused to leave, however. It had sat there, quietly yet persistently, and acted as though there hadn't been a door it could go through and after a while, Settrigh and Aphelios had stopped tearing and tugging at it.

Their visitor was very similar to the warmth they had craved and the comfort they had searched for and yet, the latter would have left Aphelios covered in shame and self-loathing. Settrigh decorated him pink and as his touches had become gentler the more often they had done it, the softer the colour turned also until it was bright and pastel and adorned his harshly red hips so tenderly.

Settrigh furrowed his brows lightly, dipped his head and Aphelios could tell that he was asking for permission. He whispered yes and closed his eyes in a sharp inhale when Settrigh's hot lips hovered over his cheekbones. He could feel his breath so wetly and close and his lips felt soft on his skin. He thought to sense the rose spreading across the sombreness and his shuddering wrists turning light when Settrigh held them. He held them so loosely and gently that Aphelios could tear them away at any moment but he wanted this, wanted Settrigh to paint him in beautiful colours, in green and pastels, and kiss Settrigh's body until his adoration was marked in every inch of the man's body.

Settrigh slid his lips over his reddened jaw and down his neck, fiery red and purple, and tiptoed over his shoulder.

"When Alune died", he muttered breathlessly and buried a hand in the reddish-brown hair, "my parents would always hold me there and cry."

The man nudged the sadness with his nose away. Next, Aphelios watched Settrigh's head lower onto his chest. He let go of the slender, purple-pink wrists and cupped his ribcage instead. His large hands fit around his slim frame easily, effortlessly, as though it had been made to be painted and held by Settrigh, and his thumbs and palms spread the rose colour with a tenderness that made Aphelios' throat restrict.

He watched the stains and memories being washed away by his digits and lips and his voice was quiet and shaky as he accompanied the kisses with dire words.

"They wanted to cover them", Aphelios nodded at the blue and the unrelenting colour on his hips, "But I was scared of being purple all over."

He laughed humourlessly and Settrigh shook his head, quieting his stuttering sounds. He nudged his chest with his cheek and wrapped his arms around all of him until Aphelios returned the embrace in an affectionate manner. Settrigh's locks tickled his chin and ribs and the hairs on his thighs poked his scrawly ones as he wrapped them around his waist. He was holding Settrigh close and warm to where he could hear his heart beating in colourful pain that the man had decided to kiss away. And so he continued, brushed his waist and moved his mouth down his belly and navel that were yellow and pink and now embellished by a trail of rose.

Settrigh laid Aphelios delicately down on delicate pillows and the midsummer night's air and breeze caressed their naked skin as gently as they stroked each other's purples and reds and blues until they were no longer. Aphelios was keening, gasping and winding into the touches that left his body in auroral shades, soft yellow when he giggled and soft pink when Settrigh stared him in the eye while pressing his lips onto his limbs.

He looked so beautiful with the greens and pinks gracing his features as he bent over him and held him rosily in the moonlight, Aphelios wanted to cry. The tears didn't feel wet until Settrigh brushed them green away and whilst their noses smoothed with their desperately soft kisses their skin blossomed.

Amidst the early morning sun's glow, Aphelios traced indefinable patterns of blooms over the span of the hot pink back and kissed him rose and Settrigh smiled his lips yellow. They painted and brushed and imprinted their affection over brutally coloured pain until there was no more sadness left and they had become tired and dizzy. They fell asleep in gleaming embraces, rosy bodies entangled like vines crawling up rough brick and limbs seeping with the brightness of dawn.


End file.
